


Your own man

by VeronicaFerCard



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-16 19:34:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2281959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeronicaFerCard/pseuds/VeronicaFerCard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If the Winter Soldier was a ghost story and Bucky Barnes a dead man, then who was the man at Steve's door?</p><p> </p><p>  <i>What they had had been bigger than a torrid passion, bigger than brotherly bond. The man in front of him might never know all of that.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Your own man

Three months after he fell from the Helicarrier, Steve opened the front door of his apartment, taking a step outside only to stumble on something wet by his feet. Steve held onto the threshold and thanks to all the skills the serum had given him he managed not to fall flat on his face. While he got a hold on himself he noticed _something_ was actually a person, as they moved from their fetal position on the floor another detail made itself known.

“Bucky?”

It was Bucky, no doubt. His hair was still uncharacteristically long, his beard was at least a week old, and judging by the state of his clothes and the wet dog smell in the air, it had probably been a week or more that he had showered.

Steve was paralyzed for a minute. He had been looking for Bucky everywhere; the only reason he hadn’t gone to Europe was because according to Maria Hill, Tony was going to need him soon. His house was the last place Steve expected to find his long not-so-lost (he hoped) best friend.

“I know you,” Bucky said, not quite looking to Steve’s face. His tone so low it was almost a whisper. Bucky shook his head. “I _knew_ you,” he tried again “From before.”

Steve felt tears prickling his eyes, he blinked rapidly to try and keep them at bay. Swallowing hard he opened his mouth to say that _yes_ , Bucky knew him, knew him his whole life. The moment was lost though, and the next thing Steve knew Bucky was swinging on his feet. Steve quickly stepped forward; he put a hand on each of Bucky’s shoulders, taking extra care with the flesh and bones one, which he was almost sure he had broken – or at least dislocated – on their last fight.

Up and close it was hard not to notice how much weight Bucky had lost. He was still strongly built and could probably hold his ground on a fight if he had to, but it was clear Bucky was malnourished and dehydrated, too, if his chapped lips were any indication.

Bucky finally looked up at him then. He held Steve’s gaze for about five seconds, his eyes foggy and unfocused, and then he lowered his head again. Steve was still holding him, afraid that Bucky would fall down – or worse, disappear - if he let go. Bucky licked his lips and the next words out of his mouth were so emotionless it broke Steve’s heard.

“I need maintenance.”

***

Steve led Bucky to the bathroom first, he did not want to leave Bucky alone so Steve let embarrassment and personal space aside and undressed Bucky like he would if this was his small son. Bucky, for his part, went willingly with everything Steve did; he seemed to be done talking now that his needs were being attended. Steve suspected it was part of his programing. No one wanted a chatty assassin, and the only reason Bucky was voicing his troubles was because he would be damage goods otherwise.

Steve ordered two large pizzas afterword. He didn’t feel hungry at all, seeing Bucky like that made him sick to his stomach, but he forced himself to eat for Bucky’s sake, to show him that it was okay to. He nursed the same slice for the rest of the night while Bucky wolfed down the two pizzas, and then proceeded to immediately get sick all over Steve’s kitchen floor.

Steve only had one bed, which turned not to be the problem, for Bucky wouldn’t get on it, not for anything in the world. Instead he sat on the far corner of the bedroom, back against the wall, pulling his knees up he hugged his legs, and was asleep before Steve could argue any longer.

Steve took the blankets from the bed and sat next to him. He wanted to pull Bucky’s hair off his face but was afraid to disturb him. Bucky barely moved in his sleep and Steve couldn’t, for the life of him, close his own eyes. He knew it was weird and creepy as hell but he stared at Bucky the whole night, told himself it was just too make sure Bucky was alright, was breathing, was _there_.

Of all the strange things Steve had seen in this new world… He would never have guessed he would have been given the person he missed the most, only to make him wonder that maybe Bucky would have been better if he were dead.

***

Sam told him he was both crazy and the luckiest son of a bitch alive. The first was because Steve should not have tried to deal with Bucky on his own, since “we all remember how well that went last time”, and the second because “what are the odds that the person you’re looking for would just literally turn up on your doorstep.”

Sam also gave Steve a lecture about PTSD and mental health, which Steve replied with ‘yes’ and ‘uhs’, and an occasional nod when he forgot they were on the phone and Sam couldn’t actually see him. He didn’t feel comfortable discussing Bucky like he wasn’t there, sitting on the floor next to him, but Steve didn’t want to leave him alone and he didn’t think Bucky was up for visitors just yet. But he knew Bucky needed professional help; Steve himself had been seeing a shrink for the first six months after he woke up. He should probably start seeing Dr. Simmons again now.

Sam was his best option at the moment.

And so Steve worked with the tools he had. He hated having to order Bucky around but that seem to be the only way to get him to do anything, otherwise he would just sit still at the corner of Steve’s bedroom for the whole time. As much as Steve didn’t want to push, there were things like eat and shower that he could not let it pass.

Sleeping was another problem altogether. Bucky didn’t sleep; he passed out from exhaustion when his body could no longer stay up. At first Steve thought it was part of the programing, he had read about the cryo. Maybe Bucky didn’t know how to sleep normally, so Steve began to tell him to go to sleep on normal hours. And then he discovered what happened when Bucky’s mind wasn’t too tired to completely shut down.

He had nightmares.

Bucky’s body shook and he trashed and turned on the floor, sometimes he screamed things in Russian or another language Steve couldn’t understand. He tried to choke or punch Steve every time Steve tried to wake him. Bucky didn’t seem to get any rest from those sleeps so Steve let him go back to his old routine.

It wasn’t healthy; it certainly wasn’t an easy choice. But none of that was easy and at least when Bucky passed out he had a peaceful sleep.

***

Steve usually did most of the talking; it didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. He knew Bucky was paying attention, so he talked about everything, the past, the present, anything that didn’t involve bad memories or bad feelings.  And even though Bucky would not smile or make a comment, there were times Steve was sure he could see something on Bucky’s eyes, those times they were less foggy and a bit brighter.

And one day Bucky started to reply. First to say that he would prefer if Steve didn’t call him Bucky, he told Steve he had gone to the Smithsonian, had seen the photos and he didn’t feel like that person. It had been the first time Bucky had expressed what he wanted, so Steve counted his blessing and asked what he wanted to be called instead.

Bucky didn’t know what to choose, for he didn’t remember having a name. It hurt. It hurt to discover his best friend hadn’t been called by a name for seventy years, like he didn’t matter, like he wasn’t a person.

Steve swallowed down his anger. Things were different now. He was going to show to Bucky that he matter, that he was human, even if he never remember who he was, he was still someone.

“How about James?”

***

“I-I don’t know who I am.” Bucky’s voice was shaky, though his eyes were dry. He had just woken from another nightmare. He was beginning to sleep normal hours again, which it meant more nightmares, but it had been his choice and Steve respected that.

They were side by side on the floor. Bucky was sweating but he still held onto the blankets, and though he had gained most of his weight back, right now he looked like a little bird inside its nest. Bucky turned his head to look at Steve, which was a hell of an improvement. Steve had been telling him that it was okay to look at someone’s eyes when you talk to them.

 “I wish I were your friend.” Steve was about to say that of course they could be friends, they _were_ friends, but soon he understood what Bucky meant. He had no idea how to respond to that. The man in front of him had been the Winter Soldier for longer than he had been James Barnes.

After a few moments thinking, Steve settled for “You can be whoever you want, James.” The name felt too formal but, if it made Bucky more comfortable than the nickname, then Steve would use it until it sat right on his tongue.

Bucky nodded. He let go of the blanket to look at his hands, the moon light entering from the window shone on the metal, it reflected on their faces. Steve studied Bucky; he looked exactly the same and whole different person at the same time.

He loved Bucky, even if he didn’t know in what way, maybe in all the senses of the word. Steve never bothered to stop and analyze what that love meant, he didn’t care. He knew Bucky had felt the same.  What they had had been bigger than a torrid passion, bigger than brotherly bound.

The man in front of him might never know all of that.

Steve reached out and took one of his hands, the metal one. He intertwined their fingers, the metal was warm, and though Bucky couldn’t feel anything Steve saw his body tense for a moment, but neither of them pulled away and soon Bucky relaxed. If he was ashamed of the arm, or embarrassed by the intimacy, Steve could only guess.

 “You,” he started and then shook his head. “ _He…_ was the first person to think that I was worth a damn.” Steve leaned back to rest his head against the wall. “Huge nerd,” he continued, smiling at the memories. “You know, it was because of him that I met Howard Stark for the first time.” Bucky flinched at the name, but didn’t say anything. Steve didn’t ask. “He was always pulling my sorry ass away from fights.” He chuckled.

“And I tried to kill you,” Bucky said quietly, looking at their hands.

“Then you saved me again.”

Bucky turned to look at him. “Do you think _I_ can be saved?”

For some reason he couldn’t explain, Steve’s mind went back to the day he woke up to discover that not only he had survived the plane crash, he was now on the twenty first century. He remembered the sense of lost, he was a man out of time, he didn’t know this world and this world thought it knew him. It didn’t.

Steve realized that was probably how Bucky felt about him. Someone who wanted him to be a certain way only to fit the mold they had. It was a terrible pressure, no one deserved to feel that way.

“You know something, James.” Steve squeezed the metal hand. “Sam once told me I could do whatever I wanted, he asked me what made me happy and I didn’t know what to say.” He shook his head. “I was so worried about what people from this time wanted from Captain America I forgot about Steve.”

“You feel like you’re doing the same thing to me.” It wasn’t a question; Bucky had always been good at reading people, especially Steve. He thought it was maybe one of Bucky’s natural skills that were worth keeping on the Winter Soldier.

 Steve nodded. “You don’t have to try to walk on anyone’s shoes. Whatever you want to do with your life for now on… you have my full support. And if you don’t want me around –” It wasn’t easy for Steve to say those words but he knew it was the right thing to do. “You gotta be your own person, James. That’s how you save yourself.”

There was a hint of a smile on Bucky’s lips, but it was so quick Steve wasn’t completely sure if it wasn’t just his imagination.

“I don’t think I want memories. I think I’m done with the past, Steve.”

 It was the first time Bucky had used his name, Steve’s heart skipped a beat, but he tried to ignore the emotion to concentrate on what Bucky was saying.

“And yes, I want your help. I want your help to build a future.”


End file.
